The Midnight Storm
by skylarbluedreams
Summary: AU Trunks is sent to Earth to find the missing Unseelie princess. They must find a way to unite the Unseelie and the Saiyans to face a coming enemy. Please R&R! Updated! Chapter Five up!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ… yada yada yada…

Chapter One

The report was grim. Vegeta drummed his fingers on his desk, looking at his advisors, waiting on them to _advise. _It was near useless- there was no real need for politicians when simply removing the problem would suffice.

"Send for my son. Obviously, Earth is in need of a stronger arm than Radditsu is capable of."

"It's not the Earthlings causing the problems, sire… it's- well, a species of Earthling called the Fey."

"These… Fey, they are warriors, no?"

One of his advisors nodded, grimly, "Near immortal, they are. And dangerous. Radditsu had no problems quashing the sect known as the Seelie Fey. But there is a second sect, not necessarily stronger, but more… tenacious."

"And Radditsu can not squash them?"

"Well," one of his advisors squeaked, "he-"

"He what?" Vegeta demanded.

"He took a person of some importance to the Unseelie captive. He seems to have- ah- kidnapped the Unseelie princess."

"He kidnapped a princess?" Vegeta chuckled, "Damn him. I always knew that what he lacked in brains he made up for in brawn, but this stupidity is beyond even him."

The door to his office opened and his son stepped in, dressed in his battle uniform, "You wanted to see me, father?"

"Yes, Trunks," Vegeta said, "I have a job for you and your team."

"Of course, Father. What is it you would have us do?"

"Wait a moment, son," Vegeta said and turned toward his advisor.

"If the princess is returned, will the Unseelie go away and quietly accept our rule?"

"That is… unlikely, sire. The Unseelie just want to be able to rule themselves. They could care less about the humans, but they will not accept our rule."

"Very well," Vegeta said, "I will send Trunks and his team to... recover the princess. They will escort her back to the Unseelie and see if we can come to some kind of… agreement."

"We'll leave right away, father," Trunks said, bowing out of the political conversation and stepping out into the hall.

He leaned against the wall in the hallway, sighing. He thought he was finally going to be sent out on a real mission, to take control of some planet in another galaxy. It turned out that he was only going to be going to his mother's home planet on some sort of rescue mission. This was as frustrating as it was ridiculous. Didn't his father think he was ready? He was already twenty-eight, no longer a child and in fact, had long been an adult.

Grunting his frustration, he headed down the hall to the soldier's common room. Once in there, he gathered Goten, Gohan, and Kakarroto. Since Kakarroto was Radditsu's brother, Trunks hoped that the mission would go smoothly and quickly.

Back inside Vegeta's office, the King sighed. He knew his son wanted nothing more than to go on a mission where he could come back the conquering hero. However, if these were the same Unseelie that Bulma had told him about, forming an alliance with them might just be the most important thing his son could do for the Saiyan Empire. The Unseelie were creatures of legend, something that was supposedly beautiful and terrifying at the same time. He strode over to the window and gazed out of it, watching his people walking below. They walked in pairs, men and women, in threes, in larger groups of soldiers coming off duty. Technicians, merchants, soldiers, and children. He had been building his empire since Freeza's defeat, taking only those planets that could benefit his own. Instead of obliterating their populations, he only sent a governor, usually a warrior that had made his worth known during the battle. Radditsu had taken over Earth. Nappa had his own planet, as did Broly. Kakarroto was happy to have occasional vacations to Earth, where he would visit his mate, a woman named Chichi. He didn't have the mental capacity to be governor. He was a tactical and fighting genius, but when it came to book smarts, or hell, even common sense at times, Kakarroto was severely limited. One day, Trunks might make a hell of a governor. He would need to learn how to rule. Vegeta turned from the window and sat back down in his chair, sighing. He could now only hope that Radditsu hadn't hurt the princess.

On Earth, at the same time

"I want you to glow for me," he said, running his tongue up her neck and to her earlobe. He bit it, hard and she whimpered.

"I told you," she said, her voice full of venom, "that you can rape me but you can't make me like it. You're a lousy lay, Radditsu."

He growled, back handing her so violently that her head rocked to the other side and she tasted the metallic flavor of her blood. She looked at him and spit it all over his face, splattering it across his forehead and cheeks, his lips. He licked them and grinned, thrusting himself inside of her. She forced her mind to go somewhere else, which was easy. They could deny her the strongest of her powers, but they couldn't take away her natural magic, that which made her what she was. Going somewhere else just simply meant shutting her mind down. Radditsu could have his way with her; her body might even act as though she enjoyed it, but by the time he thrust into her a second time, her body was nothing more than a hollow shell. Her soul, her spirit, everything within her that felt emotion, was elsewhere. Somewhere safe. Radditsu couldn't take that away from her. She endured. The Fey were good at that.

From some distant place, she heard his name being called and with a curse, he pulled away from her.

"The, uh- King is calling for you," said a low-level soldier, clearly unhappy about being assigned this task, and clearly even more disturbed by what he had just interrupted. Radditsu had a temper, and it wouldn't have been the first time he had killed the messenger bearing bad news- or even good news for that matter, if you interrupted him.

Radditsu cursed, and pulled his trousers back up, "Damn it all, what now?"

"H- he didn't say, my lord. He said that he wanted to speak directly to you. He wouldn't say what he was calling for."

Radditsu cursed, and left her there on the bed, as he walked out of the room, he sized up the soldier that had brought him the message. "Get her back to the slave wing. Make sure her wounds are healed. If anything happens to her, you die, get it?"

The soldier nodded emphatically and waited for Radditsu to leave before undoing the girl's binds. He felt sorry for her, but she carried herself out under her own power. He could feel her hurt pride, but she refused to let someone like Radditsu beat her down totally. He got her to the slave wing, with no conversation between them. Once he saw to it that a med-tech was taking care of her split lip, he left. He had, after all, fulfilled his obligation.

The conversation inside Radditsu office was heated.

"Of all the imbecilic things to do, you have to go off and kidnap a princess? What kind of fool do you take me for, Radditsu? Did you honestly believe that I wouldn't hear about it? That I wouldn't hear about their guerilla war, that you so far, do not seem able to quash?"

"Sire, I can explain," Radditsu said, turning on his charming grim that so often had worked for him in the past, "I took a woman as a slave, which is my right as the local governor. She is a creature of Earth, and therefore, in my dominion."

"Radditsu, you fool! She is a princess. You must have known that her people would want her back."

Radditsu pressed his fingers together, "The uprising has little to do with the princess, sire. They simply do not accept Saiyan rule. If they cared so much for the princess, they surely would have come for her by now. Your palace on Earth hasn't been attacked directly, sire."

Vegeta sighed heavily. Like his brother, although possibly more aware, Radditsu simply did not get it. He gave good blank face, but Radditsu was a disaster politically. Even if the uprising wasn't about the princess directly, her kidnapping would do nothing to improve relations between them.

"My son and his team are already on their way. They are to escort the princess back to her people and you are to help them through whatever means you see fit. The princess is not to be harmed in any way. When my son gets there, if he doesn't find the princess whole and in rather good shape, you'll answer to me. And not from Earth. I'll have Trunks bring you ass in a sling back to Vegeta. Am I understood?"

"Of course, sire," Radditsu said, nodding. The communicator faded out and Radditsu cursed. Better the king's brat of a son than the king himself. Trunks was stronger than him, and Radditsu knew this, but Trunks was nothing compared to his father, or Kakarroto, or even Kakarroto's half-breed brat, Gohan. His younger brother, Goten, had a power level on par with the prince's but they were still young, as the Saiyan species was a relatively long-lived one.

"Bring me the princess," Radditsu said, "and make sure she's unharmed."

A low-level soldier jumped at the barked command, exiting the office and hurrying down the hall.

Aboard The Starlight, Trunks' team's ship

"According to my father, Radditsu should give up the princess easily." Trunks said.

Kakarroto grunted, "I'll believe that when I see it."

Trunks nodded, "I was afraid of that. Once we have the princess, we'll have to escort her back to her people."

"Which is where, exactly?" Gohan asked.

"Unknown," Trunks answered.

"Once we get the princess, she can tell us," Goten interjected, hardly looking up from his hand-held game device.

"He's a genius," Kakarroto said, "will you put that thing away?"

Goten sighed and clicked it off, "I was losing anyway," he said, but didn't look happy.

"This should be an easy one," Gohan said, studying the map of the local area, which all of them knew fairly well anyway. Trips to Earth were common place, being as Kakarroto's wife lived there and his mother was from there and occasional trips to the Capsule Corporation headquarters were necessary. She had wanted Trunks' to run it, but he was much more content being an Elite. There was even a palace there, which Radditsu ran, for now.

"At least my mom perfected the hyper-drive," Trunks said, "so it shouldn't nearly be as long a trip as the last few times."

Unanimously, they agreed on this fact. A journey to Earth from Vegeta took nearly three months, and Bulma Briefs Vegeta had it whittled down to just under twenty-four hours. She was a genius, politically, technically, and scientifically.

On Earth, inside the palace

"I'll ask you one last time," Trunks sighed, his patience waning, "Where is she?"

"And I told you," Radditsu said, "Two Unseelie warriors attacked us and took her away."

"I don't believe you," Kakaorroto said, "Because you don't have a scratch on you. And, with your fear of Vegeta, I wouldn't think that you would let her go that easily."

"She returned to her people. What do I have to hide?"

Trunks leaned forward, pressing his palms onto the table and bringing his nose centimeters from Radditsu's face.

"If I so much as discover you're lying, you won't have to worry about my father. I'll kill you myself."

Trunks turned and they all walked out. Radditsu watched them go, wondering if they would find her. He had been an idiot to unbind her powers and she had used them, bringing him to his knees before she took off on her own. He could only assume that she returned to her people and that the prince would find her safe and sound. At least, he hoped so.

Outside the palace, Kakarroto, Goten, Gohan, and Trunks gathered together.

"What now?" Goten asked, "I don't believe Radditsu about what happened, but I believe that the princess is not here."

"We go find her people and see if she returned," Gohan answered, "It's the only way to be sure."

Trunks nodded, "Gohan's right."

"But where do we find them? They could be anywhere." Kakarroto pointed out.

"I know where we can find out," Trunks answered, picking up his communicator, and waiting or a moment before saying, "Bra, let me talk to mom."

There was silence for another moment before Trunks said, "Mom, I need to know where the Unseelie are."

The conversation continued between them for a few long minutes until Trunks finally cut off his communicator, his expression tense.

"According to my mom," Trunks began.

"The Unseelie won't be found unless they want you to find them," a voice answered above them. They all spun and in a tree, sitting there, was a tall man with light blue skin and darker blue hair. His appearance wasn't what caught them off guard; after all, they had seen many different type of characters throughout the galaxy. But his eyes, they were shades of gold and amber, a ring of each color in each eye. They, quite literally, seemed to glow out of his face, dimming all else around him.

He leapt out of the tree, landing beside them, "If you're looking for the princess, she isn't with the Unseelie."

"Then Radditsu was lying," Trunks cursed.

"You had hoped he wasn't?" the strange man answered.

Trunks shrugged, "Do you know where she is?"

He shook his head, "No. But I'm looking for her as well."

Trunks raised and eyebrow, "And you are?"

"My apologies. Not introducing myself was extremely rude. My name is Balin and I am captain of the Unseelie Royal Guard. If you'll come with me, I'll try and explain things to you."

Trunks looked at the others and shrugged, "Lead the way, friend."

Balin smiled and turned, walking away from the palace and towards the boundaries of Saiya City, into the wilderness that surrounded it. They all followed silently, and the man leading them offered no conversation. Trunks and Gohan looked at each other with raised eyebrows.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

It was at least an hour before Balin spoke, and when he did, he seemed to not like what he was saying, but told it like a news reporter grimly reports the violence of the day.

"The Unseelie have never accepted your rule, but then again, I'm sure you're well aware of that aren't you, Prince Trunks?"

"You know who I am," Trunks said, "but I thought you were looking for the princess."

Balin nodded, speaking slowly, "I am looking for her. The princess' father, the King of the Unseelie married a woman when the Princess was a very young child. Because her mother had died in childbirth, her parents were never married as our tradition demands they should have been. He was looking for comfort when he got a woman from the court pregnant, and tradition dictates they be married. His new bride, however, was determined that Kyara not be treated as a member of the family. Her father was very fond of her, but her step-mother made her life hell. The step-mother wanted her son to rule, and that meant that Kyara had to either be exiled or killed.

"Kyara survived through her teenage years, but had a bad habit of running away. If I could recount the times we were sent to search for her, I would, but it doesn't matter. Kyara was popular among those of the guard, and her father was trapped with a woman he didn't love and a son who was, at his best, a spoiled brat. At his worst, he was a masochist."

"So, when she disappeared this time around, you thought she had just run away again?" Gohan asked.

Balin sighed, "Well… that's what her step-mother and half-brother believed. Kyara's father thought something was amiss, but recognized his daughter's history. The guard, however, was skeptical. Kyara was in a relationship, a secret relationship, with a member of the guard. Those that knew about it also knew that should her step-mother find out, she would most certainly arranged Kyara's death. In order to claim the throne, Kyara would need some serious backing. And what more support do you need than being the lover of one of the Royal Guard?"

"You were her lover?" Gohan asked.

Balin smiled, shaking his head, "Not me. A Fey named Aragon."

"And what happened to this Aragon?" Trunks asked, stopping.

Balin stopped walking and said, "He's the one who discovered your friend Radditsu's indiscretion. This is about when I was sent to try and find the princess. And of course, there was no trace of her here other than the remnants of her power."

"Power?" Kakarroto asked.

"Like your ki-signature, we Fey leave behind remnants of our power when we use it, and when we use spells."

"And just what was her power?" Kakarroto asked.

Balin looked back in to the woods, "She's an extremely powerful telekinetic. She can move things by thinking about it, including your energy blasts."

"So that's how she got away from Radditsu," Trunks mused, "because Radditsu would have tried to subdue her using a ki-blast."

Balin nodded, "That and you must remember that the princess was on good terms with the Royal Guard, so she could defend herself. Probably not someone as strong as Radditsu, but she would have given him one hell of a fight."

"So, where are we going?" Goten finally asked.

Balin pointed, "If Kyara went anywhere, she would have gone to her grandmother's. They were very close and news of her disappearance would have been spread by now. Kyara knows her grandmother will be worried."

"Her grandmother doesn't live among the Unseelie, does she?" Trunks asked.

"Why would she? She's human."

"So Kyara isn't full-blooded Fey?"

"No. Her grandfather was full-blooded, father of the current king. He fell in love with the human woman and married her, but was killed trying to fight your kind. Their son, Kyara's father, fell in love with an Unseelie noblewoman who was pure-blooded, so Kyara is three-quarters fey."

"I thought you were immortal," Goten said, looking at Balin skeptically.

"Not immortal. We can be killed, this is true, but we are hard to kill."

Inside her grandmother's house, Kyara wrapped a towel around her breasts, tying it. She wiped the steam from the mirror and looked at herself; frowning at the split lip that beast had given her. She had the pure white skin that was prized among the Unseelie, and her eyes, one two shades of blue and the other, two shades of green were considered an oddity, but no less beautiful than someone with two eyes of the same color. As far as her body, it seemed to take on a more human appearance. She was short for a Fey, barely topping out at 5 foot four inches. She also had breasts and hips, adding voluptuous curves to what should have been nearly boy-like, except for the breasts, which were large for any member of the Fey. None liked to point out the flaws that made her heritage obvious than her step-mother.

_Bitch._ Kyara thought, running a brush through her black hair. _If it wasn't for you, none of this would have happened. I know who it was that let Radditsu's soldiers know where I was going. You hoped they would kill me, or that he would. No. What he did was worse, and you, my lovely, Unseelie step-mother, are going to pay. Along with that monster you call a son._

The words themselves carried power and Balin felt that power, though diminished over the distance, and smiled.

"She's there. Thank the gods," he said, and looked at the Saiyans following him, "Come," he said, and took off at a fast jog through the woods. He moved as though he knew them, or as some sort of predator stalking it's prey. The team had no problems keeping up, but often stepped on rocks and fallen foliage that Balin missed completely, gracefully, as though he instinctually knew they were there. When they finally stopped, outside of a modest cabin, Balin told them to wait as he approached the door.

Respectfully, he knocked where any other would have probably kicked the door down. A few minutes later, and aged old woman answered the door, greeting Balin with an arthritic bow. Trunks whispered over his shoulder to Goten, "That's the witch my mom used to tell us about. Remember?"

Goten nodded, "Your father used her as a soothsayer, didn't he?"

Trunks nodded, "But I had no idea she was once married to the King of the Unseelie. Hell, I thought the Unseelie were just some bedtime story my mom made up."

"Your friends are welcome as well, Balin. I see king Vegeta's son there. I always respected that man and won't have his son outside in the cold. Come, I will fetch Kyara and we will all talk."

She disappeared inside the door and Balin waved all of them inside. Trunks looked back at the others and shrugged. They followed Balin into the woman's house and closed the door behind them. They all gathered around the kitchen table and the old woman went to the stairs and called up.

"Kyara," she said, "Balin is here. He's brought some friends."

"I'll be down in a minute, Grams."

"Well," she said as she came back into the kitchen, "Let's all get to know each other."

"You know my father?" Trunks asked.

"Of course I know your father, young prince. I sometimes used to advise him when he lived here on Earth. I was his soothsayer."

"His soothsayer?" Gohan asked, "As in his psychic?"

The woman chuckled, "Much more than a psychic, my boy. I used to advise King Vegeta on a great many things, not just on the future."

When they heard footsteps on the stairs, they all turned to where they emptied out in the living room, just outside the kitchen. Balin let out a sigh of relief as she stepped into the kitchen. She was put immediately on her guard by the presence of the Saiyans. Balin spoke first, partially to reassure her and partially to prevent any trouble.

"These fine, strapping young men were sent by Vegeta to rescue you from Radditsu," Balin explained, "Of course, you got yourself out of that situation."

Kyara shrugged, "That man was an idiot. He should never have unbound my powers."

"It's quite impressive if it allowed you to get away from Radditsu," Gohan said, watching her as she sat on one of the chairs.

"So, you came to get me, did you, Balin?"

Balin nodded, "Yes, princess. Your father sent me."

Kyara sighed, "I'm not going back there, Balin. Dogmath will kill me. He's probably already killed Aragon."

"Aragon is alive and well, princess, but he is married."

Kyara nodded, "That is good. At least he's not dead. I can handle married."

Balin smiled, "You must come back, Kyara. Your father wants to see you."

"My father loved me, but never once did he protect me from that woman or her son and their supporters. He allowed the duels that could have killed me."

"He couldn't rightfully go against our law, Kyara. Those duels were lawful, even if they weren't for any good reason."

Kyara sighed, "I know, Balin. I just can't believe he expects me to stay there and survive."

Balin sighed. _If it weren't for the queen and her son, Kyara would be happy. She wouldn't have to fight to survive. And her father could enjoy her company. He loves her and she knows that, but he has a duty to his people that he can't put his daughter ahead of. I don't blame her for not wanting to go back._

"Please," he said, "At least come home to see him. Let him know that you're okay."

Kyara sighed, "Are you going to protect me, Balin?"

Balin sighed, "You know that I can't promise that. Once you've accepted a duel, I can't interfere."

"I know, Balin. I know. That's what I'm afraid of."

"We'll protect her," Trunks offered.

Balin chuckled, "You can't protect her, boy."

"What Balin means to say is that once a duel is challenged, if the challenged doesn't accept the duel, he or she is called coward and is never respected. However, once a duel is accepted, no one can interfere," the old woman explained, "if you do, then you violate their most sacred laws," the old woman explained.

"Better to respect their laws, Trunks," Gohan explained, "especially if we want to earn their respect."

Trunks nodded, "We would like to meet with your king."

Balin turned and looked at the young prince, "I think that can be arranged. Kyara, you can stay if you want. I'll inform the king that you are well. He won't be happy with me, but well, you are an adult."

"I'll come Balin. I owe Aragon at least my congratulations."

Her grandmother looked at her, "You be careful, child. I don't think your step-mother and brother are going to be overly pleased at your return."

"Well, they can just get over it. Dogmath is too scared to challenge me openly, as is his mother. So they get their supporters to do it for them. I'm in the kind of mood that I might just challenge them to duels myself."

"Kyara, that's not wise. Besides, you have no reason-"

She cut him off, "No reason? Balin, who do you think it was that told the Saiyan soldiers I was heading to Gram's? None on the guard would have done it. Even if they didn't do it themselves, they ordered someone to."

Balin sighed, "You're right, Kyara, but still, don't go inviting trouble. It's not worth it."

"Alright, Balin, I won't challenge them unless they give me reason to. I give you my word."

"What of Radditsu?" Goten asked, "He did lie to us."

Kyara spun, "He's mine."

Trunks looked at her, his eyes narrowing. He wouldn't be surprised if Radditsu had raped her, but it was still a Saiyan problem. It would, and should, be handled by a Saiyan, "Radditsu will be punished. Like your laws concerning a duel, a Saiyan problem is a Saiyan problem."

"Heh," Kyara grunted, pulling on her jacket, "you had better hope it was just me he was trying to impregnate. For some insane reason, he's been trying to breed with the Unseelie women he's captured and produce what he thinks will be a new breed of super warrior."

"You're kidding," Trunks said, "what makes him think," and then he fell silent, because he knew the answer.

It wasn't long ago; in fact, it was only after Gohan was born that Saiyan scientists figured out that Saiyan-Human half-breeds actually had a higher ki-signature at birth than the full-blooded. The taboo concerning inter-species mating was lifted and even his father chose a human mate to ensure high-power level children. Now, if Radditsu was mating with Fey women, hoping to create and even more powerful race, he was only doing it for one thing: to try and take the throne, eventually. But why choose the princess? And take her by force? That part, at least, didn't make sense. The princess herself didn't seem to be any stronger than any of the other Fey. That she was concerned about being challenged to a duel proved the opposite. She may be considered relatively weak compared to others of her kind. Balin treated her with utmost respect, but was that due to strength or position? Yet, she did beat Radditsu back enough to get away from him. She was an amalgam of contradictions.

Trunks knew that he needed to know more about their traditions, their laws, before he could make an informed decision about how to best go about forming an alliance with them. Gohan would of course, watch everything silently before telling Trunks what he has observed, and recommending how to approach them. It wasn't until he caught himself staring at her that he broke away from his thoughts. He looked away, hoping that she hadn't seen him staring. She was certainly worth staring at, but he was supposed to be above such behavior. Besides, he wasn't some inexperienced school-boy.

When they left, Trunks followed behind Balin and Kyara, who were speaking almost too quietly to be overheard.

"How far is it?" Kakarroto asked.

Without turning, Balin answered, "We're already near the boundaries of Unseelie land. The entrance to the Sithen isn't far."

Thirty minutes later, they arrived and Balin said a few words that only Kyara seemed to understand and a door opened leading into the ground. Stairs descended into the dimly lit cavern below and Balin and Kyara disappeared down. Trunks and the others followed a few moments later. The stairs emptied out into a hall, wider than Balin was tall and dimly lit by candlelight. They were met by a man who seized Kyara, picking her up. She laughed happily, wrapping her legs around his waist.

"Ronan, when did you get back?"

"About a week ago. I've been worried."

"I'm fine, Ronan. Never better, in fact."

"That's too close to a lie, that," Ronan said, setting her down and looking at Balin, "What are they doing here?"

Ronan's eyes were full of distrust as he surveyed each of Trunks' team. It was quite obvious that he didn't like, or at least, didn't trust the Saiyans. Balin spoke first, "My friend, they came to look or the princess. I believe they're here to help."

Trunks offered his hand, "We are honored that you would invite us into your home."

"Well," Ronan said, "he's got the politics down. At least he shows respect and all that, unlike that buffoon currently claiming he rules Earth."

"Radditsu does rule the Earth," Kakarroto pointed out, "but it is agreed that perhaps a replacement should be sought."

Ronan looked at him critically, "So, you're aware of what's going on?"

Balin shrugged, "Unless something has changed."

"Wait," Kyara said, "what is going on? I've been away for a long time, haven't I?"

Ronan looked at her, "The Seelie joined Radditsu."

"You're kidding me," Kyara said, "I thought that he defeated them all."

"Our spies indicate that they've been working together the entire time. It's part of their plan to destroy all things Unseelie."

"But, if they had to join Radditsu, it means that they know we're stronger," Kyara pointed out.

Balin nodded, "That may be true, but if they've joined Radditsu and what the princess said about inter-breeding is true, we may have a bigger problem on our hands. A problem, that ten or so years from now, could destroy all of us."

Kyara began laughing, "It is just so like him. Egomaniac that he is, he intends on taking rule of Vegeta, too."

"That will never happen," Trunks said, his fists clenching at his sides, shaking with anger.

"You think it won't? Imagine a species with the power of a Saiyan and the magic of the Fey, a perfect blend of raw power and even rawer magic. The Fey, unlike the humans, aren't fragile. We're a hard lot to kill, we are. Mix that with the Saiyan's regenerative power that makes them stronger after a beating they've survived."

Gohan spoke first, "If this plan comes to fruition, we're going to have an inter-galactic war on our hands."

"The Saiyan is right," said a voice down the hallway, slowly emerging from the shadows into the light, his impressive stature immediately commanding the attention of all who were there.

"Father!" Kyara said, immediately bowing.

"I am glad you are safe, daughter, but there are more important things happening here. Please, all of you follow me."

Without a word, everyone followed behind him, down the long hallway and into a room that appeared to be a study, an office if you will. He sat down behind his desk and regarded them all seriously.

"Your majesty," Balin bowed, "may I present the prince of Vegeta, Trunks, and his team of Saiyan soldiers."

The king bowed his head, "Your presence is welcome here, young prince as well as your friends. Too long have we not taken the time to try and get to know one another."

Trunks bowed slightly, showing what reverence he could to a man he did not know. He seemed like his father, a hard man, but unlike his father, showed respect to all, even those who were inferior in status. Perhaps it was the years that made him hard or perhaps it was this new threat, looming over him. Whatever it was, he clearly wasn't above thinking that allying with the Saiyans might help him. Once introductions were over, the real reason for their meeting was made evident.

"Why kidnap the princess?" Trunks asked first.

"You know nothing of our law, the traditions that bind us, so I will explain it to you," the king said amicably, looking at his daughter.

"I can explain it, father," she said, looking at Trunks, "because the Fey are near immortal, we do not reproduce as often as other species, including the humans. Love doesn't count for much here, even if it is the real thing and not just lustful infatuation. In order to be married, a child must be conceived first, and even in instances of rape, if a child is conceived, the parents are married. We do not tolerate the marriage of an infertile pair."

"I see," Trunks said, "so Radditsu's plan was to get you pregnant and allow himself a venue to the Unseelie throne through you."

Kyara nodded, "But what Radditsu doesn't know is that when you're Fey, the Gods don't often create a match, even through pregnancy, that isn't meant to be."

"So, obviously, Radditsu wasn't meant to be your lover," Ronan said, "thank the Gods for that."

Kyara nodded, "So, you see, if Radditsu manages to impregnate a Fey, his is bound to her and no adultery would be tolerated. To the Fey, marriage is an oath and if you break your oath, you're worth less than the dirt they'll bury you in."

"Is Radditsu aware of this?" Kakarroto asked.

"Doubtfully," Trunks answered, "he's got some intelligence or he wouldn't have been made governor, but he's not all that bright, and he wouldn't care what Fey law is."

The king nodded, "And you could remove him as governor?"

"My father could. But, I'd have to be able to tell him what we think Radditsu is planning."

The king nodded, "Well, we of course, must do what we can to remove him from any opportunity to achieve his plans."

Trunks nodded, "And what of our alliance?"

"That," the king said, "I will consider. You're my honored guests and I believe that we'll be having a feast arranged by Azura to celebrate my daughter's homecoming."

"I wouldn't eat the food, though," Kyara said acidly, "it's likely to be poisoned, especially mine."

The King glared at his daughter, but said nothing. Perhaps he silently agreed, but he spoke, "In any case, I will announce my decision after the feast."

Balin made sure they were seated together, but not with other Fey at a table close to the King's table. When the others started milling inside, they were all caught off guard by their appearance. Among the Saiyan, differences in body shape and size weren't uncommon, but hair, skin, and eyes rarely changed among the pure-blooded. Hair was usually black or a light-to-dark brown, with the latter being less common and black eyes. Trunks got his lavender hair and blue eyes from his mother's human heritage, and her skin color, which wasn't the creamy brown of the Saiyan, it was paler, whiter. Goten and Gohan's parent's both had black hair, so it was no wonder they got the black hair. The spikiness, common among them, made no appearance in Trunks' long straight hair until he turned Super Saiyan, when it turned gold and radiated, along with the rest of his skin, a golden glow.

These Unseelie, though, they had all different skin colors, all of which seemed to glow. Their hair colors all seemed to naturally complement the skin color, but none of them were human colors, unless the human dyed their hair. They eyes were perhaps the most striking, all fiercely glowing, running the gamut from Balin's golden-amber eyes to the colors of precious gems. They were all immaculately dressed, making the Saiyan's battle suits seem inappropriate and all they could do was stare, casting glances at one another and shift uncomfortably in their seats.

After everyone else had settled in their seats, the royal family entered, Kyara first, followed by her brother, Dogmath, the queen, and then the king. Putting Kyara first determined her rank as far as the throne went- Dogmath was probably heir apparent. He walked with an arrogant cockiness that Trunks saw his father use, especially when he wanted to seem intimidating. They were all dressed formally, Kyara looking notably uncomfortable in the floor length gown, which hung off her shoulders and bared an obscene amount of cleavage. Once they all took their seats, servants crowded the hall, serving the food and drinks. When you were a guest at another ruler's court, it was always polite to wait until your host started eating before you took the first bite. Of course, they were always served first, and it was considered impolite if they ate before their guests had all been served.

The dinner over, the king stood and waited for the hall to fall into silence before speaking, "If there is any business that needs settling before I make a few brief announcements, please present it now."

A woman stood, Aragon beside her, trying to get her to sit down, but to no avail, "I'm doing this for my sister, Aragon. I don't trust you any more than I trust that half-breed piece of trash you used to be with."

"What is it, Siobhan?"

"I challenge Princess Kyara to a duel," she said, her blue eyes settling on Kyara with a maliciousness that only confirmed her desire.

The entire hall fell silent and Kyara stood to answer the challenge. Balin shook his head, and Aragon, Ronan, and another guard stood. The king sighed deeply and nodded, looking at his wife and her son, who looked entirely too pleased with the situation.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"What grudge do you have against me, Siobhan?" Kyara asked, "I have no quarrel with you that I know of."

Siobhan smirked, "Your precious Aragon married my sister. I'm just ensuring you don't interfere."

Kyara rolled her eyes, "As you wish, Siobhan."

"You won't have any eyes left to roll when I get done," Siobhan said, menacingly.

Kyara ignored the comment and walked out to the middle of the floor. She wasn't dressed for a fight, but then again, hopefully it wouldn't matter, and if it did, she wasn't above stripping. Siobhan was perfectly dressed, wearing trousers and a form-fitting white blouse, allowing for ease of movement. Kyara, on the other hand, had been forced to wear a puffy satin dress by her step-mother. She knew it had been intentional, but now wasn't the time to cast blame.

Siobhan pulled out her dagger and began the spell. Kyara knew it instantly and also knew at that moment that Siobhan meant to kill her and she wouldn't have to strike a death blow to do it. She had just put a death spell on the blade and a mere nick from its tip would bring true death, even to an immortal. This gave Kyara one option: get the blade out of Siobhan's hand before she could strike. Thank the Gods that she was a telekinetic.

Siobhan circled her, brandishing her blade. When she moved in to attack, Kyara moved, sliding under the blade and coming back up behind her, and Siobhan spun, bringing the dagger around in a circle. There was an audible gasp, but Kyara caught her arm, twisted it backwards, and pushed her forward, allowing her to keep her blade. Siobhan stumbled forward a couple of steps, but righted herself and turned. She took a deep breath and took up a fighting stance again.

The dress was a liability. Kyara grabbed the front of it and jerked, and with the sound of ripping satin, it came off. Balin, Ronan, and Aragon had taught her how to fight. They helped develop her powers until she had such fine control that the duel would be over now had she wished it. However, the petty challenges had to end. Kyara knew that in order for that to happen, she had to make an example out of her challengers to scare any would-be opponents from challenging her in the future,

Siobhan rushed her again, almost gliding across the floor. Kyara side-stepped her and turned, driving her elbow into her back between her shoulders. Siobhan grunted, almost lost her footing, and panted for a moment before turning back to her opponent.

"Face it, Siobhan. You can't match me in hand-to-hand combat. You're a noble, not a warrior. A pencil-pusher."

"Bitch!" Siobhan spat, rushing her again.

Kyara chuckled, dodging as Siobhan's knife came down in a vicious arc. Kyara grabbed the wrist of the hand that the knife was in and wrenched it behind Siobhan's back. She screamed, her fingers opening, and the blade clattered to the ground. Kyara kicked it away and it slid across the floor, coming to rest a few feet away from them. She shoved Siobhan in the opposite direction, throwing her over a table. The Fey sitting there scattered, and she landed with a hard thud on the floor on the other side. Kyara dropped back into a fighting stance as Siobhan came back up, knocking the table aside. The Fey, male or female, were naturally stronger than humans.

Siobhan came at her, her hand outstretched, beginning the spell. When she released the lightning spell, The spell hit Kyara full force and she screamed, riding the shockwave of energy, barely managing to get her shield up in time before it did major damage. Wisps of smoke rose from her skin, some burned patches seeping blood and other fluids. Siobhan used that one moment to make a grab for the knife, slipping past Kyara to pick it up and turn to attack Kyara again. With her head just beginning to clear, she was vulnerable to the attack, but sensed it coming and caught Siobhan's arm as it came down. They struggled for control for seemingly endless moments before Kyara knew that in order to survive, she had to regain control of the dagger.

Siobhan growled, using all her strength to try and bring the dagger home. Kyara hadn't wanted to kill her, but Siobhan seemed intent on it. It brought out survival instincts; kill or be killed. She concentrated before being able to focus her power enough to wrench Siobhan off of her, bringing the dagger toward her, where the bone hilt landed in her hand. Siobhan let out a cry of rage and rushed her again. Kyara brought the dagger up and she impaled herself on it. Siobhan staggered backwards a couple of steps and looked down to where the dagger protruded from her chest. The flesh around the hilt was already turning black and necrotic, spreading like ripples in water. She sank to her knees, looking up at Kyara, disbelief in her eyes. She pulled the dagger out and blood squirted, covering Kyara's front. She looked down at the blade in her hands and crumpled forward.

Kyara stood there for a moment, panting to catch her breath. Two of Siobhan's friends came forward to remove her body and Ronan came, draping his jacket over Kyara's shoulders, leading her back to her father's table. As she sat, the king stood to make his announcement.

"I have agreed to an alliance with the Saiyans, on certain conditions. First, Radditsu is to be removed from his position of power. Secondly, I will send my daughter, Ronan, and Balin with the Saiyan prince so that they may learn their culture as they will leave one of their team with us."

"Father, I don't want to…" Kyara began, but was silenced with her father's glare.

"You will go, Kyara. This is as much to prevent any future duels as for the Saiyan to see my commitment to this alliance."

"Father," Dogmath spoke, "I could go in her place."

"Silence. I have made my decision."

Trunks looked at Gohan, who thought about it and gave a nod. Standing, Trunks bowed slightly to the king, "We accept your arrangement, although replacing Radditsu will take some time. I do not take the task of losing one of my team members lightly, as they are all valuable to me. However, I believe that there is one among us who would not mind calling Earth home. Kakarroto, do you mind staying here?"

Kakarroto ran a hand through his hair and smiled, "Of course not. I'll be closer to ChiChi, and well, she'll be happy about that."

"Then it is decided," the king spoke, "you will leave tomorrow, I assume?"

Trunks nodded once, "After a visit to the Earth palace to advise Radditsu that he will be replaced."

"Father," Dogmath spoke again, "why send that half-breed mongrel? Sending your heir would be a more…"

His father cut him off with a back hand that send his head sharply in the opposite directly, "Do not speak to me of breeding, Dogmath. Your breeding may be true, but you lack many things that it takes to become a ruler. You may be my heir, but make no mistake, it was only one night of passion that brought you into this world and only a promise I made to your mother that keeps you alive."

Dogmath wiped blood from his lips, cursing under his breath. The king ignored it, looking to Kyara, "Go to bed, pack your things, do whatever you need to do to prepare to leave, but don't think of running away. I'll post a guard at your door to see that you don't leave until you depart."

"Yes, father," Kyara said, standing to leave, hugging Ronan's coat tighter around her. She wouldn't defy her father. She had too much respect for his to do that.

Saiya-City Palace

"I don't think so," Radditsu snarled, leaping over the desk, looking at Kyara with obvious intent in his eyes, "I see you found the princess. Perhaps you'd like to watch me fuck her? She loves it, you know?"

Trunks frowned, "Radditsu, you always were an ignorant ass. I never understood why my father chose you to govern Earth. You can choose to leave easy or I can kill you right now."

A wry smile crossed Radditsu's face and he launched himself at Trunks, tackling him, sending both of them through the palace office window. Gohan and Goten took off after them, their ki igniting. Kyara sighed, wanting no part of it, except perhaps to see Radditsu get killed. Using her telekinetic powers to carry her aloft, she followed. When she landed on the ground outside, she saw Gohan and Goten standing there, watching as Trunks and Radditsu exchanged blows too quick for the eye to see in the sky. They fought, with no clear advantage for either of them. Blow for blow, they were evenly matched.

"Isn't Trunks…" she began, and then she stopped, watching the fight again.

"Stronger than Radditsu?" Gohan finished, "Yeah. But Radditsu is a Super Saiyan, or capable of it. They are few among our kind that are able- or willing- to train hard enough to achieve it. Trunks would rather not kill him if it can be avoided."

Kyara understood, but her own feelings lie equally to the opposite. She would have rather seen Radditsu broken and dead than alive, but as she did not understand their culture, she let it go. After all, he was little more than a monster in her eyes.

Radditsu managed to get a hold of Trunks and threw him into the ground. He then turned his attention onto Goten, firing a ki blast that caught him off guard and sent him nearly unconscious into the grass at the edge of the woods. Gohan took off after his brother and Radditsu laughed a venomous cackle that made the hair on the back of Kyara's neck stand up. She managed to get over to Trunks, who was shaking off his impact, but Radditsu was already charging up another ki blast.

"Trunks," Kyara said, "can you fire a blast?"

Trunks nodded, igniting the bluish-white glow in his hand, and pointed at Radditsu, but Kyara shook her head, "No. Fire it at Gohan and Goten."

"What!" Trunks looked at her, incredulous.

"Trust me. Fire it at them, but hurry."

Trunks nodded, letting the blast go, bare moments before Radditsu did. As it reached the brothers, it changed shape into a dome shape, surrounding them. It absorbed Radditsu's blast, keeping Gohan and Goten safe inside. Radditsu let go a hail of ki blasts, each one being absorbed by the shield that Kyara created. She was concentrating hard, her hand outstretched before her. Balin and Ronan finally arrived, swords drawn, landing beside Trunks and Kyara.

"I… can't hold…it much longer."

Balin looked at Trunks, "Go take care of Radditsu, quickly. Kyara can't hold their shield much longer. If you can distract him, Ronan and I will get your friends out."

Trunks nodded, taking off after Radditsu as Balin and Ronan left to gather Gohan and Goten. Kyara's shield fell just as they arrived and Trunks engaged Radditsu. Balin threw Goten over his shoulder and Gohan kept pace with Ronan. Kyara stood, watching the battle between Trunks and Radditsu.

"Don't make me kill you, Radditsu. Don't be a fool. You can come back to Vegeta, and lead the life of a soldier."

Radditsu frowned, looking at Trunks, "Like I said, I don't think so. You're going to have to kill me in order to get me to give up my position here."

Trunks shook his head, "Enough, Radditsu. I don't want to do this, but you're going to force my hand, aren't you?"

Radditsu smirked, his eyes catching Kyara on the ground below them. Trunks saw it coming almost too late. He charged up the blast and sent it hurtling down to her. Trunks looked at Radditsu, taking off to beat the blast, accelerating to do so. He made it, grabbing her, the full force of the blast hitting him in the back. Once the smoke had cleared, Radditsu was gone. Trunks cursed, looking where he had been in the sky and then back at Kyara.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded, "I'm fine. You shouldn't have let that bastard get away."

Trunks shrugged, "Well, I've got your safety to be concerned with, too. I don't think it would do too much for relations to bring you back to your father dead."

She chuckled, "No, it wouldn't. But, still…"

"Come on. We've got a ship to catch. I'd say we could run, but flying would be faster, you know?"

Kyara shook her head, "If I could. That shield drained me."

Trunks sighed, "And you don't look the type whose pride will allow her to be carried."

She shook her head, "No. But I'm not against it if it'll speed things up."

They arrived at the ship and Trunks set her down gently, watching as Gohan bandaged Goten's arm,

"We saw Radditsu flying away. Are you two alright?" Gohan asked.

"Fine," Trunks said, "how about you, Goten?"

Goten shrugged, "I've had worse. As well you know."

Trunks smiled, nodding, and looked to Balin and Ronan, "What about you?"

"No worse for wear," Balin said and Ronan nodded in agreement.

"Then let's be off. I have to tell my father about Radditsu."

As they boarded the ship, Ronan bent to Kyara's ear, "Are you alright?"

She nodded, "I'm fine, Ronan. Though, had Trunks not protected me by letting Radditsu get away, you and Balin would have been cleaning me up with a sponge."

Ronan nodded, "Well, at least we know that the prince has honor."

Kyara shook her head, "Ronan, don't let personal feelings cloud your judgment. The prince wasn't even alive when the Saiyans took over the Earth."

"Nor were you, princess. So, don't assume to know what it was like."

"I don't, Ronan, but assuming that all Saiyans are bad is like assuming all Unseelie are monsters."

"Some of us are."

Kyara nodded, "Then you get my point."

Ronan shrugged, settling into his seat silently. Balin remained silent, as usual, he thought before he spoke, where Ronan was more combustible, acting and speaking before stopping to consider the consequences. Kyara settled, and the ship shuddered as it took off. She was suddenly very, very tired. Closing her eyes, she fell into a deep, and thankfully, dreamless sleep.

She awoke to Ronan nudging her, the ship oddly silent.

"We're here," he said, and she stood, stretching, making her way to the back of the ship, where the entrance ramp was lowered. Walking down it, she could see that it was night on this planet and looked at the dual moons rising. It was nothing like Earth, and yet it was. The king stood at the end of the causeway, backed by the palace, standing beside him, his wife, and their daughter. Trunks turned, looking at her. He smiled, obviously happy to be home.

"Welcome to planet Vegeta."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four:

Kyara smiled, pushing her hair back as the wind whipped it around her face. Balin and Ronan took in their surroundings, standing between Kyara and the other, unknown Saiyans. They were doing their job. They were protecting her. Trunks offered his hand and Kyara took it, letting him escort her to the bottom of the steps. Vegeta and his wife, the Earth-born Bulma stood at the top of those steps, beside them, Trunks' fourteen year old sister, Bra.

From the bottom step, Trunks spoke, "Father, Mother, Bra, I present Kyara, Daughter of Owain, Princess of the Unseelie."

Trunks didn't catch it, but Bulma's eyes showed surprise momentarily. This puzzled Kyara, as did Bulma's rather unusual hair color and eye color. She had long, waist length blue hair that matched her blue eyes and beautifully pale skin. Her daughter was her spitting image, which made Kyara wonder where Trunks got the lavender hair although his eyes were like his mother's, the azure blue of a summer sky. Kyara's own eyes, one two shades of blue; a shade of sparkling sapphire and the pale blue of a periwinkle; the other, two shades of green: shades of emerald and jade were Unseelie, but Bulma's were Seelie eyes.

She could feel the flare of magic, the glamour that she was using to appear more human. Still, Kyara bowed low, kneeling, keeping her eyes on the couple until Vegeta nodded and she rose.

"Welcome, princess," Vegeta said, "I am sure that you and my son have much to tell me, but it can wait until after dinner, can it not?"

Trunks nodded, "Of course, father. I will show that princess and her friends to their rooms."

"That is a servant's job," Bulma said, "However, I will show the princess to her room and you can show her friends to the soldier's area."

Trunks nodded, but Balin stepped forward, "We are the princess' guards. She goes nowhere without us."

"I give you my word that she will come to no harm."

"Balin, Ronan, follow Trunks. I will go with his mother. All will be fine, I promise."

"Princess, are you sure?" Ronan asked.

"Do as I said. She gave her word that I would come to no harm."

Balin and Ronan relented, and Kyara started up the steps to Bulma, who bowed slightly and turned, the satin of her dress rustling as she went inside. Kyara had brought clothing, but most of it had been casual dress clothes; jeans and shirts that she felt comfortable in. She had hoped that there would be no need for formal attire, but it seemed that she was mistaken.

"So, princess," Bulma said, walking ahead of her as she started up the palace stairs, towards the rooms, "what brings you to us here on Vegeta?"

"My father wishes that should our people ally with yours that we should learn more of each other's culture. Kakarroto stayed behind to learn more of ours."

"He wished to stay with his mate, ChiChi, I presume."

Kyara nodded, "Yes, your highness."

Bulma scoffed, "No need of such formality with me, princess. You can call me Bulma. I- still am not used to being queen."

"Then, if you please, Bulma, drop the 'princess.' You may call me Kyara. I'm used to being a princess, but that title has given me little, I'm afraid."

Bulma stopped in front of a door and opened it, pushing the door open and stepping inside. It was a large room; larger than her Gram's living room, larger in fact, than any room Kyara had seen, save for her father's room inside the sithen. It was lavish in every sense of the word; the four poster bed was shrouded in heavy, expensive linen curtains. A heavy desk, vanity, and dresser decorated the walls. A double door led to a balcony that over looked the gardens and another door led to a private bath with an old-fashioned claw tub and shower,

"This was my room before Vegeta made me his queen. He had hoped that filling it with Earth decorations would remind me more of my home. It was truly thoughtful of him, but all I really wanted was him. I didn't need things to remind me of what I was leaving behind."

"I am honored, Bulma."

Bulma nodded her head, "I hope to make you feel welcome, Kyara. There will be a ball tonight to welcome you and your friends."

_Damn. Just what I'd hoped wouldn't happen. _

"If you find yourself in need of clothing, I have tailors and stylists to accommodate any style you could wish."

"Again, it is an honor, Bulma. I thank you."

She nodded, "It is no problem, Kyara. It feels good to be around…" she stopped and Kyara sensed that she had been hiding her heritage from many people. She wanted to finish Bulma's sentence, but decided against it.

The Fey had this need, almost an unfathomable desire to be around other Fey. They craved the sight and feel of the glowing, polished skin, the magic that surrounded others of their own kind. If Bulma was Seelie Fey that would mean that her son and daughter would be half Seelie as well. Although it seemed that her son was more ruled by his Saiyan heritage. The daughter Kyara had hardly met, so she could not pass judgment on her. Kyara understood this need, especially in this place, and almost wished she hadn't sent both Ronan and Balin away with Trunks.

"In any case, I shall send my tailor and stylist along shortly. Of course, with that skin and those eyes of yours, you could wear a potato sack and still be beautiful."

Kyara blushed slightly, "A pretty compliment coming from someone as truly beautiful as you, Bulma."

Bulma chuckled, "I thank you for the compliment, Kyara. It has been long since I was in the presence of someone who truly understood."

Kyara nodded, "Bulma, if you miss it so…"

"Planet Vegeta is my home now. I am no longer welcome among them, if that is what you were going to suggest," Bulma said sadly.

"You've hidden your true heritage."

She sighed, "My husband knows, as do a few others, but my son and my daughter remain blissfully ignorant."

"You looked surprised when you first saw me, Bulma. Like you expected some sort of monster, almost. I mean no disrespect, of course."

Bulma nodded, "The stories I remember of the Unseelie are of hideous things- monsters and the like. I didn't think that an Unseelie could be as beautiful as you are."

"You know as well as I that there are monsters residing in either court, Bulma. The Unseelie are just more… accepting of it than your ancestors."

Bulma smiled, "As the reason I was thrown out of the glittering throng finally becomes evident. I fell in love with a Saiyan, bedded him, and became pregnant. It was a misdeed that would have meant death had Vegeta not taken me here, to his home planet where

they could not reach me."

"Your parents- they did not try to help?"

"My father had lived among the humans too long, and my mother who undoubtedly loved him, preferred the comfort of our sithen. I was raised between my father's laboratories and the Seelie court, but when it was noticed that I was gifted with nothing more than a genius intellect, I was often overlooked at the court. So, I began to learn to take my father's place as owner and scientist at Capsule Corporation. Then, the Saiyans came."

"And the rest, as they say, is history," Kyara finished with a smile.

"Please, do not tell my son. He is- ignorant of this and believes himself to be half human. If he were to find out- well, loyalties may change."

"Then that is why- Radditsu is trying to ally and breed with the Seelie. He must know of your heritage and sees Trunks' power as something he wants."

Bulma stopped, "Perhaps. However, Trunks has no magical ability that I am aware of."

Kyara thought for a moment, "Perhaps his Saiyan heritage has been the dominant one, especially since he has been raised as a warrior in the Saiyan way."

Bulma shrugged, "There is much speculation in your words. However, I am afraid that I have no answers for you. My powers are limited to senses, nothing more."

Bulma left and Kyara sat on the bed, pushing the curtains out of the way. So, Bulma was Seelie Fey. This meant that allying with the Unseelie would be harder than first thought, as the two different brands of Fey were sworn enemies. Where they had once, long ago, been one court, now they were two, and hatred ran deep. Kyara hadn't been a glint in her father's eye when this had happened. Her father's father had been alive, but her father had either been an infant, or yet to be born. Either way, the separation of Seelie and Unseelie was nearly ancient history. At twenty-one, Kyara was an adult by human standards, but by Fey standards, she was still a child. Balin was centuries old, perhaps even more than a thousand years old, and Ronan wasn't much younger. Her father, she knew, was about the same age as Ronan.

The way the Fey aged was unnatural, the humans said. It seems that their bodies chose an age at which they simply quit aging physically. Usually, somewhere in their sexual prime, during their mid twenties to late thirties, although some remained almost child-like and some grew to be aged and wizened. Kyara had yet to reach that age, and since she was one-quarter human, there was no indication if she ever really would. She did, however, look younger than she was, but only by a few years.

When someone knocked on the door, it brought her out of her thoughts.

"Uh, come in?" she answered and in swished a Saiyan servant, a pretty girl, really, with long, spiky black hair and large brown eyes.

"Mrs. Bulma says you need a dress for the ball. I've brought some she thought might agree with your look."

Kyara sighed, "Yes. She was right. And your name is?"

"I'm sorry, your highness. I was incredibly rude, but my name is Arissa."

"Arissa? You're from Earth, aren't you?"

Arissa nodded, "I was a stylist for the Seelie court."

"You came with Bulma?"

Arissa nodded, "Bulma and I were friends. When she left, I left."

Kyara stood, sighing, "And I suppose you, too, thought all Unseelie were monsters."

"Actually, not at all. My mother was half-Unseelie. Perhaps you knew her?

Eirianwyn was her name."

Kyara nodded, "The wife of Bledden. He- he exiled her from the Unseelie when he caught her cheating."

Arissa coughed, "Yes. And she committed suicide once I was old enough to take care of myself. She and Bulma's mother were friends."

"I am sorry for that. I hadn't heard."

"It's not your fault, your highness. You weren't but a baby then."

Arissa held up a black, floor length dress, so that she could measure it against Kyara's complexion and threw it to the bed. Black, while a stark and lovely contrast against her skin, wasn't her color. She held up a sapphire gown and considered it thoughtfully, placing it in a second pile. Next was a pale blue-silver gown, made of a shiny, satin material. Arissa handed it to her and nodded, "Put it on."

Not many Fey have a problem with nudity. Kyara pulled off her shirt and her jeans, removing her boots first. As she slid into the dress, she checked to make sure that none of her scars showed. She could hide them with glamour, but it was easier if she didn't have to. Arissa zipped it up and moved Kyara in front of the mirror.

"I think it's beautiful. The paleness of your skin is just enough paler than the fabric so that there's a contrast, but it's subtle. And the color brings out both of your eyes."

Kyara nodded, looking at herself in the mirror. For one of the few times that a dress had been selected for her, she was actually happy with the result. Usually, her gowns were selected by her step-mother and usually made so that the step-mother was beautiful and Kyara was plain.

"I'll be back with my other stuff in a bit."

"Other stuff?" Kyara inquired.

"Oh. Well, that is, Bulma thought that you might like your hair and makeup done as well."

Kyara smiled. Her step-mother had never done that. Kyara had done her own hair and makeup, while the queen had makeup artists and hair stylists. "I'd like that, Arissa."

When she came back carrying two cases, Kyara began to wonder what she had gotten into. She sat in a chair, away from the mirror and Arissa began rolling her hair onto heated rods. Once she was done with that, she began artfully applying makeup. She said nothing as she worked, except for when she commented on how little base she had to use. Once she was done with the makeup and unrolled her hair, she began pulling the curls back from her face, leaving a few tendrils to frame her face. She pulled it back, twisting it as she did, fixing it with small fasteners until they pulled the front, sides, and nape of her hair back a few inches, still allowing the curls to cascade down her back like a silken waterfall.

When she pulled back to look at her, she nodded, and Kyara stood, but Arissa wouldn't let her see herself until she had stripped nude, put on the underwear that Arissa had brought her, white lace, and put on the dress. Once that was done, she moved Kyara in front of the mirror. She stared. She recognized the person staring back as herself, but had never seen the person staring back at her. Her eyes glowed, even though she actively tried to make them appear more human. The eye shadow, in shades of beryl, sea foam green, and rimmed in sapphire. Her lips did not need lipstick, as they were already red.

At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Kyara pulled herself away from the mirror to answer it. When she opened the door, Aragon stood there. He stared for a moment, and Kyara blushed, darkening the light sweep of blush that Arissa had applied.

"You are stunning," he breathed, offering his arm, "Balin sent me to escort you."

"Balin should have come himself."

"Aye," he said as they began to walk down the hall, "but, he is occupied at the moment. It seems that he is engaged in a little babysitting. He was assigned to escort the Princess Bra."

Kyara stifled a laugh, "Balin? Escorting a fourteen year old?"

"Goten said that she asked for him. Balin grudgingly agreed, but he wasn't too overly happy about it."

"Well," Kyara said, "she is fourteen, Ronan. I was fourteen not too long ago."

"Ah- yes, those were your crush years. Tristan and Donnan were objects of your affection. Your father approved Donnan, but not Tristan."

"I'm surprised you remember. Yes, my father approved of Donnan, but it was because Donnan was strong enough to keep me alive. Even Dogmath feared him. Tristan was strong, but he was a social and political disaster."

Ronan nodded, "Yes, this is true. However, you and Donnan dated for awhile. We all thought that you would be wed, but then you decided you weren't ready for marriage."

"I wasn't, Ronan. I was sixteen. Part of me still loves Donnan, but we weren't meant to be. Nor were you and I. It saddens me, but I am glad that at least you can maintain a friendship with occasional benefits. Donnan still won't speak to me."

Ronan smiled, "Well, Donnan is a fool. He still loves you, though. Before we left, he told Balin that if anything happens to you, he would hold him personally responsible."

Kyara sighed, "If anyone could go against Balin, and have a chance, it's Donnan. My father almost appointed Donnan as Captain of the Guard, but chose Balin, who was more even-tempered and less ruled by emotion."

Ronan nodded, stopping in the middle of the hallway, outside the doors to the ballroom, "Donnan has become Captain in Balin's absence, Kyara. Balin is aware of it and he approves. Still, he is not happy with his current assignment."

"I don't blame him, Ronan. I don't want to be here. However, is Radditsu is attempting what I think he is, he's got to be stopped. Trunks was raised among the Saiyans, with no real Fey warriors around and no…" she stopped.

"Why wouldn't he be? He is the son of the Saiyan king."

Kyara sighed, "Pay some attention to his mother tonight, Ronan. Don't say anything to anyone but me."

"Okay," he said, eyeing her critically.

"Trust me, Ronan. Watch the prince as well. See if you can see the same things I do."

Ronan nodded, "It shall be done, princess, but I still don't understand why."

"You will," she said.

He opened the door and walked in with her, holding her arm locked with his. The conversation in the room dropped to a hush and everyone watched them. Balin's eyes widened and he smiled, bowing. Beside him stood Bra, looking effectively like a Homecoming Queen in her red cocktail style dress, her blue hair pulled back into a ponytail held by a red ribbon. Trunks stopped talking to Goten and his eyes followed her. Goten watched as well, but his eyes moved from his friend's to Kyara. Trunks walked away from his friend and met them at the bottom of the stairs leading to the raised thrones. There was one main throne, larger than the other two, set back from the smaller ones slightly, and set higher on a large platform. It was occupied by Vegeta while the other was occupied by his wife.

"Welcome, Princess Kyara," Trunks said.

She bowed, separating from Ronan's arm, although he stayed close beside her. Trunks took her hand and escorted her up the stairs. He looked magnificent in his formal uniform- black trousers with a red sash tied at the waist, the ends hanging at his hips, reaching down to his knee. He also wore a deep blue jacket with gold epaulets at the shoulders, and a crisp, tight, high collared white shirt. His feet were covered in black boots, polished to a shine. His lavender hair, which hung to between his shoulder blades, was pulled back into a ponytail at his nape, tied with a black leather bind. The blue jacket was adorned with a shield, woven into the fabric, with a white background and an ornate "V" with vines woven around it. It was the Vegeta family crest. She bowed to Vegeta, who seemed bored and disinterested in the entire situation, and to Bulma, who gave a small bow with her head in return.

She rose and turned, descending down the stairs on Trunks' arm, "I see my mother sent Arissa to see you."

Kyara smiled, "Yes. You don't like it?"

"Actually, quite the opposite, if you want my opinion. However, I see that I'm not the only one admiring her handiwork."

Kyara looked up and Ronan was staring, the beginnings of jealousy in his eyes. It was odd, because the Fey weren't the type to get jealous. When the music began, Trunks pulled her out onto the dance floor, ignoring Ronan's unpleasant stare. "I don't believe you asked," Kyara admonished.

Trunks grinned, "I apologize. It's just customary that the prince decides who he wants to dance with first."

She shook her head, smiling, "Still, custom or not, one would think that you'd want a willing partner."

Trunks stopped, "If you are unwilling, I will find another partner."

"No," she said, "it's not necessary. I am not unwilling."

Once the music ended, Trunks bowed to her and turned away, having to stop to avoid Ronan. He watched the prince walk away before turning to Kyara.

"I don't like him," he said, finally, watching the prince leave to claim another dance.

Kyara turned and looked at Ronan, "Why not? You hardly know him."

Ronan shrugged, "I don't like Donnan all that much, either."

"You just don't seem to like any potential suitor, Ronan," Kyara said tiredly, "You know as well as I that what we had is over."

Ronan bowed his head, "Yes, but I wish to see you make better choices in a possible husband. Donnan was possessive and jealous, and this one- he's part Seelie."

"You see it too?"

"I can feel it more than see it," Ronan replied.

"That's why you don't like him. Because he's Seelie."

Ronan had long ago been cast out of the Seelie court for refusing to marry a Seelie princess he hardly liked. A shape-shifter, a rare gift among the Fey, was too powerful not to allow into the Unseelie court. That was long before Kyara's birth, something that she merely heard stories about.

"Can you blame me?" he asked.

"Can you blame a racist for a hate crime, Ronan? Seriously, the differences between the two courts are minute. In fact, genetically, we're all pretty much the same. The Seelie could do wondrous things; make the grass grow. Things humans considered good. The Unseelie had the darker powers; the powers that took life away, powers they didn't understand. It was humans who long ago termed us Seelie and Unseelie."

"I know our history, Kyara."

"And besides, Ronan, what in the name of the Goddess makes you even think I look on him as a potential mate?"

Ronan sighed, "Princess, I am not blind. He looks at you as though he has never looked upon a Fey in his life. His youth was spent on Earth, so he had to of at least heard of our kind. And his mother is Seelie, as well. Full blooded. Surely he knows…"

"According to his mother, he believes he is half-human. She was exiled for her love of the Saiyan king."

"Exile means no contact with other Fey, or at least, it did."

Kyara shrugged, "Which means if the Seelie find out we're here, her life could be forfeit."

Balin had come over and he agreed, "I am afraid this situation is a little more precarious than any of us bargained for."

Kyara looked up at Bulma, who was watching the people on the floor of the grand hall. Did she know that by being near them that she could be killed? Her husband and his race had defeated the Seelie, but could he keep her safe if they came after her? Radditsu could supply them with the means of getting here; in fact, he could already have spies in place.

Trunks had joined them, "I hope that you are enjoying yourselves."

Balin bowed slightly and Ronan merely nodded, "We are honored that we are included in your festivities," Balin said, speaking before Ronan could. It wouldn't do to have Ronan insult the prince.

Trunks bowed back, his eyes catching Kyara, then going back to Ronan and Balin,

"We received a communication from Kakarroto. There is still no sign of Radditsu and some of his Saiyan guards."

"He is hiding," Balin said, "perhaps among the Seelie. He is afraid."

Trunks nodded, "My father appointed Kakarroto governor as long as he is among the Unseelie and seeks the advice of their advisors. He's not politically adept, but he is among our strongest fighters."

Trunks reached up, his fingers brushing Kyara's arm as he did so, an innocuous touch, something that was both intended and not. It sent a shimmer of desire through her nerves, up her arm, speeding her heart momentarily. It was like static electricity, a small shock, something that didn't hurt as much as it startled. He brushed a lock of hair that had escaped his bind back behind his ear and motioned to Goten.

"We were just debating if we should return and try to find him," Trunks said.

"I do not think it wise," Balin said, "offending the Seelie by seeking a rapist among them and suggesting they have allied with their enemy could cause a war between the courts."

"And we wouldn't want that," Ronan said, a hint of sarcasm to his voice.

Kyara was aware of the conversation going on, but her eyes were locked on Trunks, trying to reclaim the sensation that occurred at his slight touch. She realized it was probably just the touch- skin-to-skin contact with another Fey, something she had been denied in the six months with Radditsu. At least, that was her rationalization. It had to be that, and nothing more.

"Princess, are you alright?" Balin asked.

"Huh?" Kyara asked, blinking.

"Have you heard anything we've said?" Balin asked, concerned.

"Radditsu still missing. War between the courts. I need air."

She turned and left the hall, retreating to the open balcony, where she filled her lungs with the crisp night air, clearing her head, making her sane. She inhaled deeply, letting it go slowly, closing her eyes.

"Kyara, are you alright?"

It was Ronan, genuine concern in his eyes. His eyes were the grey of a stormy sky, streaked by flecks of gold lightning. It perfectly matched his dark grey hair which hung to his ankles, loose, tucked behind his ears and thrown over his shoulders to cascade down his back.

"I'm fine, Ronan. I just- it's hard to explain, but, suddenly, I had to get away."

"What's wrong?"

Kyara described what she had felt at the brush of Trunks' fingertips. Ronan listened, keeping his face neutral while she explained. When he reached out to touch her face, she didn't pull away and it was all too much; she had to have release, the touch of another Fey, flesh to flesh.

She kissed him first, hard, her tongue entering his mouth, sighing. When they parted, she looked at him, "Ronan, can we…"

"Let's get out of here," he agreed, taking her arm.

As they made their excuses: "This princess is not feeling well; space travel must not agree with her," they worked their way to the door.

Kyara loved Ronan, and likely always would, but he wasn't husband material. He could probably keep her alive, but only through his position on the guard. If Dogmath ascended the throne in their lifetime, which was entirely likely, Ronan would be turned away from the guard. Dogmath feared Balin and Donnan too much to risk it.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Warning: Lemon Content Ahead!

Ronan and Kyara barely made it to her room without tearing her dress off. She needed to feel him against her, his flesh pressed to hers, his golden glow matching her silvery shine. It had been a long time for her; she had been with no one but Radditsu for six months and before that, she hadn't known what she wanted. So, she had no one for a long year before Radditsu had taken her. They didn't see that they had been followed before Ronan backed her into her room, closing the door behind them.

Trunks frowned, confused, but then remembered it had only been Balin that said he was not Kyara's lover. He had mentioned Aragon, but never Ronan. Then again, Trunks' hadn't asked.

_Why am I jealous? _

Trunks turned on his heel, returning to the grand hall. His mood had changed from light-hearted to moody and brooding.

Inside Kyara's room, it was more about brazen lust and raw desire more than it was about love.

"I've missed you like this," Ronan whispered, easing the zipper on her dress down, careful not to tear it. It was the only time he would be so gentle; once the dress was gone, he slid a finger inside her panties and pulled. The sound of ripping satin startled her, but it didn't scare her.

"If I remember correctly, you seduced me first."

Ronan shrugged out of his shirt, "As if you weren't receptive."

He slid a finger inside of her, testing her. She took in an audible breath, pressing her hips against his hand. Ronan took a moment to unfasten his pants, but soon came back to her, kissing her as he lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist. He surged inside her with a hard thrust, pressing her into the wall. Kyara cried out, in pleasure and pain, tightening her hands on his shoulders. Her skin began to glow softly, matching his sunlit glow. Moon and sun beams, she had called it as a child. Ronan was lost, reveling in the way she felt around him, tight and warm and wet.

They had always been good at this, as though they were made for each other, but Kyara couldn't be with Ronan. He was too emotionally unstable; prone to act first and consider the consequences later. As a teenager, it had been what attracted her to him, but now, older and wiser, she saw what her father had not liked in Ronan and Tristan. He hadn't known of Aragon; their affair had been too brief.

Still, the sex was incredible; Ronan knew exactly where to touch her and how. In fact, after only a few thrusts, she was crying out, her body convulsing around him. He turned, carrying her over to the bed. Their lovemaking intensified until they collapsed in a heap, arms and legs intertwined, panting.

Kyara fell almost immediately into a deep sleep, and when she awoke, Ronan was gone. She smiled, rolling onto her back, turning to look out at the orange sunrise. She sat up, turning her feet toward the floor. She padded to the shower, where she turned on the water as hot as she could stand it.

After her shower, she slid into a pair of jeans and a tank top, pulling her boots on over her jeans. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and set out about exploring the palace. As she descended the stairs, she was Balin and Ronan, arguing. It wasn't unusual, but it was odd.

"You need to watch yourself, Ronan," Balin said quietly, "I understand your feelings… for the princess, but a match you are not."

Ronan glared at Balin, "How can you presume to understand anything about me? Especially when it comes to Kyara? We are friends, Balin. Do not jeopardize the respect I have for you."

"I do not mean disrespect, friend," Balin said, "however, the King will not allow such a match, even if there is a child."

"Then he violates our law," Ronan said.

Balin sighed, "Our laws. You know as well as I that there are ways around any law, even our most sacred."

Kyara descended the last stair, "Hey guys. What's up?"

"Princess," Balin said, "what are you doing here?"

"I was eavesdropping," she said, but didn't want to comment on the conversation. Balin was wiser than Ronan, and Balin had been right, "that, and I was going to explore the palace."

"We've been over it inch by inch," Ronan said, "there's not much to see, except the training room."

"Training room?"

Balin and Ronan looked at each other, as if they were sharing some secret, "It's actually very… well, I can understand how the Saiyans are so powerful. Their sparring is brutal with one another." Balin said.

"I want to see this… training room."

Trunks panted, taking back up his fighting stance, sweat dripping down his bare, muscled chest, glinting in the lines formed by the rippled muscles of his abdomen. Strands of his lavender hair had escaped its bind, plastering themselves to his face. At the other end of the room was Gohan, who was also panting. They met again, moving unbelievably fast, unleashing a flurry of blows that Kyara could barely keep up with. The guards had educated her in the martial arts, but even they weren't capable of speeds this fast. No wonder they had been eventually defeated. Ronan could shape-shift and Balin could kill with a touch if he wanted to. But those… talents were nothing compared to how these Saiyans could move and fight one another, the abuse their bodies tolerated while still going on.

They broke apart again, standing to face one another.

"You're more… aggressive than usual today, Trunks. Is something bothering you?"

"Just trying to get rid of some pent up frustrations, Gohan."

"Your father?" Gohan asked; he and Goten were Trunks' closest confidantes; he openly spoke of his frustrations at being assigned to what he considered 'third class missions.'

"Partially. I'm rather upset that he sent Cumber and Lattus to Earth to seek out Radditsu."

Gohan shrugged, blotting his face with a towel, "That's a third-class mission, Trunks. Not worthy of the prince's attentions. Radditsu will be brought to justice."

"I'm not concerned with that. I just wanted to see this thing through."

"We have company," Gohan indicated the spectators.

Trunks looked up to the observation window and for a moment, his eyes met Kyara's with an unreadable expression. He wiped his face and leveled his eyes on Ronan and Balin.

"They knew we were there the entire time," Kyara said, chuckling, "they were giving us a show."

Balin smiled, "And a most impressive show it was," he said.

"I think we should repay their efforts," Ronan said, his eyes glinting.

Balin pulled the sword out of the sheath at his back. It was an ancient Katana, Balin and Ronan's preferred weapons. They liked them better than long or broadswords, though they were experts with those as well. He nodded at Ronan, "Lets see how our princess has kept her sword fighting skills. Give her your sword."

Ronan pulled it out of its side sheath and flipped it, handing the woven hilt crested with a wolf to her. Kyara took it, nodding. They descended the stairs to the lower level, where Trunks and Gohan watched them enter.

"Mid if we use the room?" Balin asked, "I have to make sure the princess is still up to par with her fighting skills."

"Be our guest," Gohan bowed, his hand sweeping back.

Trunks crumpled his towel and threw it into a basket on the corner, "We're done here."

His voice was flat and indifferent. They exited the room and made their way up to Ronan in the observation room, standing at the window. Trunks swallowed water from a bottle without taking his eyes off of Balin and Kyara, who circled one another, stretching before settling across from one another. Balin chose a forward standing, wide legged stance, his sword placed with the hilt at his waist, bisecting his torso. Kyara took a side stance, holding the sword horizontally at her eyes. For endless moments, neither of them moved, only stared at each other with an intensity of concentration.

Balin struck out first, launching himself at her, bringing his sword around, above his head in a vicious slash. Kyara parried the blow, sliding backwards across the floor, turning just in time to bring her sword up to defend another blow. Then, Kyara went on the defensive, her movements fluid and graceful, powerful despite her height and weight difference with her opponent. She pushed him back with her telekinesis, throwing him backwards. It threw him off balance and she used that moment to attack him. He defended the blow easily, they pirouetted at the same time, their swords coming together with a sharp clink. Balin threw her backwards so that she landed on her buttocks, but she kept hold of her sword and jumped back up so that they could circle one another again, like two wolves fighting for the position of leader of the pack.

They were sweating, their breathing labored and still they came together again and again, their battle traveling the length of the room, Kyara at one point climbing the wall and flipping over Balin, nearly catching him off guard as he barely brought his sword up to parry her blow. They separated, sweat dripping down Kyara's shoulders, running down her arms, making them glisten with a pearlescent shimmer. Balin bowed, acknowledging her skill, an expression of a proud teacher on his face. She bowed her head, looking up into the observation room. Her eyes found Trunks' and for a moment they locked. Then, he turned and exited the room. Gohan looked back at Kyara and followed.

"Did I offend him in some way?" Kyara asked, looking at Balin.

"No. I think the young prince is just… well, jealous for lack of a better word."

"Jealous? Whatever of?"

Balin looked up at Ronan and narrowed his eyes slightly, "Do not be coy. It does not suit you. Everyone knew that you and Ronan did not leave because you were ill."

Kyara blushed brightly, "I was that obvious, huh?"

Balin nodded, "Perhaps in the future, you and Ronan should both learn to contain your desire."

Kyara nodded. Balin was right. She and Ronan had been lovers in the past. Right now, she had other things to worry about. Besides, it had to seem as though she were available. If her step-mother knew she was actively sleeping with one of the stronger members of the guard, she would be killed before she could even conceive an heir. Azura would not allow such a union to beget offspring that could eventually threaten her son. She, Balin, and Ronan left the training room and she found herself wandering the garden; trailing her fingertips over the silken petals of the flowers that grew there. The king had made it more like Earth for his Seelie wife; an expression of how deep his love truly ran. She lifted her head up to the sun, inhaling deeply. It wasn't home, but it wasn't too far off, either.

Trunks lay on his bed, his hands on the hips of the woman writing above him. He was buried inside of the attractive concubine, but she was just another venue to relieve his frustrations. She meant little to him; he could have selected any number of them, but she was the only one with black hair and green eyes. The result of a human-Saiyan match, she had the dusky skin of a Saiyan and the dark, spiky hair, but her eyes were human.

She cried out in pleasure, her hips undulating against his, her knees on either side of him. Her breasts were small, and he reached up to cup them, pinching her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. She cried out, tossing her head back, grinding her hips down into his. He rolled her under him, bracing himself on his arms, his hands on either side of her head, entering her with a bruising thrust. She cried out, tears springing to her eyes, her hands raking down his back. He drug himself out of her, surging back into her again. She moaned, crying out. He picked up a harsh rhythm, pounding himself into her again and again. She was pressing her hips upward to meet his thrusts and he seized them, holding them static against him as he sank himself into her hard and deep, grunting with his effort. His thrusts were shattering as he filled her with his seed. He rolled off of her, getting up from the bed and pulling his trousers back on.

"Did I not please you, sire?" she asked, watching him.

"You were fine," he said, his voice emotionless as he scooped up her dress and tossed it to her.

He tucked his shirt into the pants and sat on the bed to pull on his boots. He heard her silently pulling on her dress, smoothing it down. He didn't even speak to her before he left the room. As he stepped out, Gohan met him, looking urgent.

"We've received a communication from Kakarroto. He says that you've been invited to the Unseelie Samhain Ball."

"The… uh, what?" Trunks asked, totally oblivious.

"The Samhain Ball. Their Halloween celebration. Kyara's on the communicator with her father now. Apparently, it is one of their most important celebrations."

Trunks nodded, "Why me?"

Gohan shrugged, "I have no idea, but it's quite obvious that Kyara will be attending, and Ronan and Balin will be returning to Earth with her."

Trunks sighed, "And if I refuse the invitation?"

Gohan looked serious for a moment, "I believe your father would command you go, just to make sure that no offense was given."

"Well, then I have no choice."

Gohan nodded, "You're right about that."

Trunks walked down the hall to his father's office where the communication device was, opening the door slowly.

Kyara turned and the king looked at Trunks, "Ah, young prince Trunks. So good of you to join us."

Trunks bowed, "It is an honor, King Owain. To what do I owe the pleasure of your contacting me?"

"I am issuing you an invitation to our Samhain Ball, a week hence."

Trunks bowed, looking at Kyara who kept her face neutral, "I am honored at the invitation, King Owain, but I am not sure that I am aware of what this Samhain Ball is about."

The king smiled, "I wouldn't think that you would. Samhain is one of our most important holidays, if you will. Earthlings call it Halloween."

Trunks nodded, "I am aware of that holiday."

"It is unusual, but to make you and your Saiyan friend Kakarroto more… comfortable, I am declaring this a costume ball."

Trunks wasn't sure if that would make him more comfortable or not, but he bowed his head, "I thank you, your highness."

The king's eyes turned back to Kyara, "Then I look forward to seeing you in a week, or sooner, if it is possible."

Kyara bowed her head, "Of course, father."

The communication screen went black and Kyara stood, looking at Ronan and Balin, "A costume ball. Usually the ball runs nigh to formal, so I'll at least be more comfortable."

Balin nodded, "Can we be prepared to leave in five days?"

Trunks nodded, "It can be arranged."

"Aragon and Kyara loved one another, of that I have no doubt," Dogmath mused, continuing, "It was only a night of passion that led to Aragon getting Gwennon pregnant. He has followed our customs and married her, but I know where his heart truly lies."

Cadwallen, his head guard, nodded, "We have but to get him to break his oath with the princess, and both of them will face a death sentence that even the king can not override."

"I've never denied that my father loves that… half-breed more than he loves me. Of course, I am a half-breed as well, but my mother was better placed than Kyara's mother. So, therefore I am heir. I have no doubt that my father would rather see her on the throne."

"But for a promise to your mother, it would probably be so. As far as birth order, she is heir apparent."

Dogmath nodded, "Kyara is too dangerous to my reign to remain alive. If one of her trysts with a member of the guard should get her pregnant, then she will be well enough protected. There are members of the guard that even I fear."

Cadwallen nodded, "How do you suggest we get them to break his vow? Kyara is intelligent, politically savvy and wise for her age. She won't just sleep with Aragon. She knows our laws."

"At this moment, my father is extending an invitation to attend our Samhain ball. We will send a note to each of them- something stating that the other wishes to see one of them. Of course, I shall provide wine from my private stock- that which I use to persuade women to my bed. It is called the Wine of Prurience, or else the Drink of Desire. It renders anyone, even the Fey, incapable of containing their urges."

Cadwallen smiled, "Even if they could prove it was the wine, it would do them little good."

Dogmath nodded, "Little good indeed. My fair sister is about to learn that I am not one to dismiss as a trifle."

"It will be done, sire."

"See that it is, Cadwallen. You know above anyone else that I do not tolerate failure."

Cadwallen nodded and bowed, exiting the room.

Arissa arrived, carrying handfuls of potential costumes. Some were unacceptable, especially those with wings, which Kyara immediately dismissed. It did not do well for her to imitate horribly the stereotype which most humans placed on the Fey, as diminutive winged creatures. Kyara finally decided on a costume that harkened back to her school days, when she attended a human school for a small time. It was a red, white, and black plaid skirt, with mid-drift white top and white knee-high stockings. It was positively ludicrous, but sexy, and sexy at Samhain was a tradition. Arissa left to attend to the prince, and Kyara stepped out onto the balcony.

Balin and Ronan were practicing their sword fighting on the lawn just beyond the gardens, and Goten and Gohan sat upon the lawn, watching. Their intensity was much stronger than the intensity of Kyara and Balin's match, but they hundreds of years experience compared to Kyara's fifteen. She remembered vividly the day that Balin had first put a sword, a wooden bokken, into her hands. It was just after her brother, pretending that he had been playing, had nearly killed her. Balin thought that the princess should be able to protect herself against her brother, but back then, her powers were nothing compared to what they were now.

Kyara knew that returning to the Sithen, back to her home, might lead to another assassination attempt. She was tired of duels, of the back-stabbing and political positioning common at the court. She could work magic, like most any Fey, but did not have the stronger powers that some of her court possessed. Dogmath had a power that could turn a room of extreme right-wing conservatives into a full-blown orgy. It wasn't a deadly power, but it was a rare and useful one, especially when positioning himself for a choice mate. It was, essentially rape without raping. Dogmath could actively use the power, or place it in food or drink. He had seduced a number of women this way; though not unattractive, his tastes in sex ran to masochism, and some women just don't equate sex with pain. For Kyara, she liked the pain of rough, raw sex, but not the pain of abuse during sex.

Balin and Ronan would be with her, as well as Trunks, but they couldn't guarantee her safety. Assassination wouldn't be an easy thing, not out in the open, and not without someone challenging her to a personal duel. The problem was, once a duel was challenged, no one could interfere. If it was one of the Fey with the deadlier powers, could she survive?

Author's Plead:

**Hey, you guys! Review to let me know what you think! How's the story coming so far? Come on, now!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Warning: Graphic Lemon Ahead!

Kyara sat in her room, sighing loudly to herself. She had been home for nearly two days and no attempts had been made. She had seen Aragon, briefly, and Gwennon, who was large with their child. There was sadness to Aragon's gaze, almost as though he regretted the actions that had brought him to this position. There was nothing for it, as he and Gwennon had conceived a child together.

She was already dressed for the ball, but was trying to muster the courage to walk the hallway towards the grand hall, which was always where the ball occurred. She would, of course, enter before her brother, who would be followed by his mother, and lastly, her father would come into the hall before they were all seated. Kyara didn't care about whom was heir except as far as the unavoidable conclusion that if Dogmath became king, he would have her killed. She would be killed so that at least, if he did not produce an heir, no progeny of hers would ever ascend the Unseelie throne.

She stood, giving herself one last glance into the mirror before she began the long walk down the hallway to her father's office, where they would line up to walk into the grand hall once all other guests were inside. Her father was there, with Donnan, his new Captain of the Guard. His father was dressed as Napoleon, the costume custom fitted to him. Donnan was dressed as a knight with chain mail, a costume that allowed him to carry his sword and still be dressed.

"Daughter," the king said, taking in her appearance, "you look… ravishing, as always, although I doubt Azura will approve."

Kyara shrugged, "She doesn't have to approve. I am an adult, not some doll to be dressed for her whim."

Donnan frowned, "Hush, princess. It would not bode well should the queen hear your sentiments."

Kyara turned to Donnan, "You are right, Donnan, but I can also no longer afford to appear weak."

Azura and Dogmath came down the hall, dressed as Caesar and Cleopatra, a costume pairing that she had no doubt ordered. Azura was not educated, and obviously had no idea of the significance of the pairing; Dogmath, Kyara knew was well aware and wasn't happy about it. Everyone just kept a neutral face, trying to keep from chuckling. They lined up to enter the hall, Kyara first, followed by everyone else. By the look of her step-mother's narrowed eyes, she didn't appreciate the costume.

Balin and Ronan were dressed much the same as Donnan- it seemed the queen had ordered a theme among the guard. As she settled into her chair on the dais, she sought out Trunks and Kakarroto, who made a compelling pair. Kakarroto, an honorary guard, was too a knight, but Trunks was dressed at what Kyara could best describe as a romantic highwayman, with the velvet trousers, white linen peasant shirt, rapier sword, and black eye mask, complete with the hat and feather. Arissa had chosen well, as was beginning to be her reputation. The costume went perfect with his lavender hair, which he had left down. She smiled at him, but he looked away, muttering something to Kakarroto. The food was served, they ate. Once the food was cleared away, the ball began, music swelling to fill the room.

She found herself dancing with Ronan, who commented on her costume, "Lord and Lady, you'd be the most tempting jail bait if you really were underage instead of just looking like it."

She smiled, "The queen chose… well," she said, stifling laughter.

Ronan frowned, "I hate this thing," he said, "it itches and it's heavy."

Kyara chuckled, "Don't let the queen hear that, or she'll make you wear it at every opportunity hence."

"She can't order me to do anything if I'm not here. I plan on returning with you, and your father has already ordered it so."

"Balin, as well?" she asked, turning to another dancer and bowing. She was about to be passed on to the next partner, it was one of those regal dances where the women were passed around from male to male, each dancing with everyone who was there.

Ronan nodded, "He's eager to go, when we get back, we'll be training with Gohan, learning his techniques. Balin thinks it'd be a good idea if you… participate, too. He was quite impressed with your current skill."

"And if Balin thinks it a good idea, you're going to follow."

Ronan shrugged, "If I agree, yes."

Kyara sighed, "No one really disagrees with Balin, except occasionally Donnan."

"Even Donnan knows that Balin is superior, both as a warrior and politically."

"No, Ronan, as warriors they are near an even match, and politically, the only thing Balin has above Donnan is temperament."

Before Ronan could reply, she had been passed on. She continued the dance until she was paired with Trunks, who bowed stiffly.

"Either you're nervous, or you'd rather it not be I as your partner," Kyara said, "and I'm voting for the latter, because you don't seem the type to be a besotted school-boy."

He said nothing, just continued in stony silence, and Kyara finally stopped dancing. The music was about to end, anyway, "Cut the act, Prince Trunks," she said, using his title to get his attention, "I do not know what I have done to offend you, but tell me and be done with it."

"You're a blunt one," he said, his voice toneless.

She sighed, "And you are acting like a spoiled little prince who hasn't gotten his way."

His eyes narrow and he exhaled sharply, "I simply do not want to raise offense to anyone," he said, "least of all Ronan."

"Ronan," Kyara closed her eyes, folding her arms across her chest, "let me tell you about Ronan. We were lovers once, when I was seventeen. He was one of my first- and definitely one of the first I would still claim to love, but there is nothing between us except the occasional… encounter."

Trunks bowed, "If the princess says so."

"Goddamnit, you're a son of a bitch," Kyara hissed, "Do women just fall all over you? Of course, you're the fucking prince. A glance, and there is hope of becoming the mother of a potential heir, thus securing their position in society, whether you wed them or not. Well, you're not _my _prince, are you? Or maybe you want to be," she finished suggestively.

She turned, walking away, out of the grand hall, and into the hallway. She was shaking with anger, and something else. She had to get a hold of her emotions. Now was not the time to lose it, especially not over a man she hardly knew.

"Princess," Donnan said, "I have a note for you."

"Donnan," Kyara breathed, "who is it from?"

"Ronan gave it to me, and bid me find you. I know not who it is from as I didn't read it."

"Thank you, Donnan," Kyara said, taking the parchment from his hand.

She unfolded it and on the yellow parchment in purple writing said:

Kyara – please meet me in the library at 11 o' clock. There are many

Things that I need to tell you. Please come.

Aragon

She stared for a few long moments, and then checked the clock on the wall; no one knew how it ran, but it kept accurate time. An hour from now. Concentrating a bit, the parchment burst into flames. She wasn't burned, but the note was gone. She re-entered the ballroom and looked for a way to kill an hour. She finally joined Ronan, Balin, and one of the few female guards, Malvina.

"Ronan, you gave Donnan a note for me?"

Ronan nodded, "It was given to me by Gwennon, who said it was from Aragon. She didn't look happy about it, but said she was sworn to give it to you."

Kyara nodded, "I see. It passed through many hands before it was put into mine."

Ronan shrugged, "Gwennon is due any day now, Kyara. She couldn't well go traipsing around the sithen looking for you."

"You're right, Ronan. I shouldn't have doubted you."

"What did this note say?" Donnan asked, and Balin nodded.

"He wants me to meet him in the library at eleven. He wants to tell me something."

Donnan sighed, "I do not think it a good idea, princess."

Balin agreed, "We all know of your feelings towards Aragon, Kyara. If it had not been for one night…"

"I know our laws, Balin. I will not have sex with Aragon. I can control myself to at least that extent."

Balin nodded once. He trusted her. Donnan shrugged and Ronan looked positively confused, and spoke, "I am sure that Aragon has no intentions of seducing Kyara. He may not love Gwennon, but he will not risk that he'll be found out."

"We all trust Aragon," Balin said, "he is one of the guard, and he is not one loyal to Dogmath, but to the king himself."

Kyara nodded, "I have nothing to fear of Aragon."

"It is not Aragon I fear," Donnan said.

Kyara stood on tip-toe, kissing him on the cheek, "I am honored with your concern, Donnan, but I am no longer the naïve girl I used to be."

"I know that, Kyara," he said, his voice soft, "and I regret every minute of being the one who took that naïveté away from you."

Kyara smiled, "You didn't take it, Donnan. I just grew up. I need to go. I promise that should I feel I am losing control, I will leave."

"I have your word on that," Donnan said.

"My word," she said.

Kyara left, making her way to the library. It was five until eleven and she wanted to be a few minutes early, to try and get a sense of the word. She pushed open the heavy wooden door of the library, which was dimly lit by random lanterns and candles. On a table sat two crystal glasses, each filled with wine, a note tucked under one of the glasses. Kyara opened the note, which was from Gwennon.

Please enjoy the wine. It is from my own personal stock.

She brought the glass up to her nose, smelling it, although she was not dumb enough to think that anyone would use a detectable poison. She and Gwennon had never been close, not even friends, really. Perhaps this was her way of making peace with Kyara. Letting Aragon say goodbye to her, and her to him. She took a deep sip, savoring the warmth of the red drink, the flavor of the ripened grapes, as it spread throughout her entire body. Another sip and the sensation was almost heady, although it took a lot more than a couple of sips of wine to get her drunk. The warmth spread out to her limbs, setting every nerve on fire, spreading to her lower body, which tightened in response, her nipples hardening from the chill in the room and something else. Suddenly, she knew what the wine was and set the half-empty glass on the table and stumbled to the door, desperate for fresh air.

Before she could reach it, the door pushed open. She waited, knowing that who walked through that door would either be her salvation or her demise. She let out a long breath as she saw it was Trunks, who looked around the room before his eyes found her. He seemed to look through her rather than at her as he spoke.

"Aragon sent me; I passed him in the hall just now. He was on his way here, but it seems that his wife has gone into labor. He asked me to tell you that he's sorry, but he can not be here."

He came more into the room, looking around, "My mother would love this place."

Kyara smiled, running her hands up and down her arms, unable to stop her eyes from following. He stopped at the table, looking at the wine, "Another occasional encounter?" he asked, a wry smile on his face.

Kyara shrugged, "Think whatever you want. I was just asked to meet him here."

She bit her lips, digging her nails into her palms, trying to do anything that would distract her. Pain was always a good distraction, and she dug until she could feel blood dripping from her fingers, running down her wrists. Trunks picked up the wine glass, bringing it up to his lips.

"No! Don't drink the…"

Before she could finish, he had downed the entire glass and she shook her head, "Goddess help us."

Trunks took a step forward then he felt it, so strongly that he toppled over the table trying to reclaim his balance on it and he had to reach out for the back of one of the red velvet chaise lounges. He looked at Kyara, his eyes a mixture of anger and fear.

"What- was in… the wine?" he growled.

"It's a… spell. One of my brother's favorites. He uses the wine to compel any woman to his bed… it's, for lack of a better term, an aphrodisiac. It renders Fey completely incapable of containing their desire. It only works on the two who have drunk it."

Trunks' glare had changed from unfriendly to something bestial, something raw and feral, "Is there some kind of antidote?"

"Time, if you don't go mad first," Kyara replied, "Or… giving in to the effects of the wine."

Her skin was already beginning to glow softly, her blood shining like garnets on her white skin. It dripped to the floor and she shook visibly, hugging herself, smearing the blood across her upper arms and shoulders. Her body was reacting to the wine; she could feel the moisture between her legs and squeezed her thighs together, inhaling sharply.

"You're hurt," he said, crossing to her.

"Don't touch me," she said, turning away. If he touched her, it would be all over.

"Let me see," he said, turning her, his gloved hands on her shoulders, but his body was tense, the words tight, carefully neutral, almost forced.

She opened her palms, showing him where her nails had dug small crescent shaped pits into her hands. The blood was trickling now, the wounds healing on their own. He pulled his shirt out of his trousers and ripped it into two long, thin strips. He bound her palms, tying them off. She hissed, but the binds were sound.

"There," he said, "although you're already healing."

His eyes caught hers and they locked for a minute. She turned away first, hugging herself.

"Kyara," he said, removing his gloves, "look at me. Please."

She turned and realized he had taken of his gloves. She shook her head, "Trunks, I can't control my magic right now. Sex is," she stopped, "I don't want to hurt you."

He looked at her, his eyes harboring nothing less than pure desire, as though he were predator and she were prey, "I can handle it."

"You don't understand our… magic. You can't. You've never experienced it."

"Then, show me," he said.

The intensity had just about become unbearable. She wanted him- and he could have been anyone male, it just happened that Trunks had also drunk the wine. She reached up, her fingers tracing the line of his mask, until she pushed it off. Then, she ran her fingers down his face, over his eyelids, across his cheeks and jaw, to his lips. She did it while flaring her power a small amount, forcing it out through her fingertips. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

Trunks' entire body trembled, shimmering with the magic she had given him, small though it was. He cursed, wrenching her to him, his mouth finding hers, his tongue filling her mouth. Her mind gave in, succumbing to the effects of the wine. Her hands tangled in his hair as her tongue mated with his, twisting around it. His hands were at her waist, pulling her against him. He ground his hips against her, and she cried out, gasping. His hands were working the tie to her shirt, and once it was done, he pushed it off her shoulders, exposing the lacy white shelf bra. She pulled it the rest of the way off, discarding it on the floor. His mouth found hers again in a fierce kiss.

Everything around them melted until there was nothing but the other, the touch of velvet skin, the thickness of magic in the air, and the heady feeling of animalistic desire. Trunks pulled off his shirt, pressing her to his chest. Her skin was shimmering, catching colors in the candle light he had never seen skin catch before. Pale pastels of pink, purple, and blue highlighted her curves. This should have fascinated him, but it only made his need more urgent. She ground her hips against his groin, standing on tip toe to do so. He picked her up, setting her on the desk, jerking at the laces on his pants. Finally freed, he slid them off his hips, springing forward, long and perfect. His teeth grazed her neck, his hands sliding up her skirt at her hips, hooking his fingers inside her panties and jerked.

She cried out, her head falling back, giving him easy access to her breasts. His hands came up, cupping her breasts, his thumbs passing over her hardened nipples. Even through the lacy fabric of her bra, the touch ran through her, reaching deep to her core. He lowered his head, pulling the bra down, baring her breasts, seizing a nipple between his teeth. He rolled his tongue over it, biting it, one hand catching her wrists, pilling them above her head to the wall. The other hand slid between her legs, and she opened to him. He tested her with a finger, causing her to jump, sucking in a breath between clenched teeth. Her eyes were half closed, but they glowed like neon behind the thick, black lashes.

He positioned himself and entered her with a hard, shattering thrust. She screamed; it was exquisite pleasure and biting pain- he hadn't made enough room, and couldn't reach all the way inside her. He let her wrists go, taking a hold of her hips as he drug himself out the length he'd made it into her, surging back in, working to make room. Her magic came up, spilling out of her like the light that lit her skin, flowing into him. He shuddered; it was unlike anything he had ever felt before, like being swallowed by something thick and soft, something not solid. She couldn't control it; it poured out of her, sliding over him like a velvet shroud.

Her hands slid down his back, her nails biting into his skin. He thrust again, finally managing to bury himself completely inside her. It brought her, screaming to orgasm, and suddenly he had enough room to move. He didn't hesitate; his hands clinched her hips, pressing her into the table as he pulled out, driving back into her, hard and deep. Her ankles locked at the small of his back and he lifted her hips, deepening his penetration. He buried her face into the curve of her neck, murmuring her name, driving into her again and again, until her cries came at every thrust, every shattering movement. She was clenched around him, moaning his name. If there was any caution left, it fell away, drowning in their need for each other.

His skin took on its own glow, a golden hue of a late afternoon, close to sunset. He was pumping himself in and out of her, sweat glistening on his and her skin, shimmering brilliantly against the glow. She came again, clenching hard and he groaned, biting her shoulder, driving himself deeply into her as he emptied himself inside of her. His knees gave and he sagged against the edge of the table, collapsing on top of her, still inside of her. It was a long time before he pulled away, pulling himself out of her. She sat up on the table, looking at him as he fixed the laces of his pants. Fixing her bra, she looked at the torn and ruined panties on the floor.

Trunks looked picked them up, holding them out to her, "I am sorry," he said.

She smiled, "It's alright."

She took them, tossed them into the waste basket at the side of the table and he handed her the shirt, watching her as she put it back on. When she had finished, he kissed her again, a gentle press of his lips, then he pulled his shirt over his head. Kyara turned, noticed the hole in the wall, and the eye staring back at her. She screamed.

Dogmath was furious. He strode down the hall, screaming for Cadwallen, passing the door to the library as Trunks and Kyara emerged. He narrowed his eyes at her, a decidedly unfriendly gaze. It suddenly dawned on Kyara what had happened. Dogmath had set both her and Aragon up; hoping that they would drink the wine and… well, Kyara would have broken the vow she had made to Donnan, Balin, and Ronan. There would be no trial, just an execution. Two, actually. Hers and Aragon. Anger swelled up inside of her, overruling her fear. If she was going to survive, Dogmath had to die. She knew that now.

**Well, tell me what you think! Read and Review, even flame me! I don't care!**


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